Tombs of Silence
by shatteredglasscrimsontears
Summary: When the Endwar happens when it was suppose to, War stumbles across something he can't explain. One shot


Tombs of Silence

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darksiders; I only own the concept of my story. **

**A/N: This story came to me as I was up late one night trying to work out a case of writers block. I hope you all enjoy this story. **

War cautiously entered the catacombs of an old war torn town in Europe. He starred around him in fascination though one looking at him would have never seen the change in his expression. These were not the haphazard stacked catacombs of peasants nor plague victims from a time long forgotten when his brother had run rampant upon the world.

These were the ordered catacombs beneath the monastery, a place where sadness lingered in such a way as for one to feel it with each breath. He gazed wonderingly at the mummified remains of over 8,000 humans, centuries dead. Heaven and Earth warred now with Hell, having routed out and stopped Abbadon's, the now deposed former lord of the White City's army, sinister plan. Yet still countless more humans died each day than the numbers buried here.

He stopped to gaze at the mummified remains of several infants; he slowly reached a hand out towards a tiny child. Suddenly soft singing, imperceptible to human hearing, echoed down the darkened corridor steadily growing closer. He paused to listen, it wasn't the distant sound of a ghostly singer or some lingering soul trapped here; it was very real.

He moved slowly down the halls with his sword drawn, edging closer to the singer as they unwittingly wandered closer to him. It steadily grew closer so he crouched down and hid among the shadows. He watched a shadowy figure move closer to the place where the mummified infants slept in eternal slumber.

He watched as an angel stepped from the shadows, her long gossamer gown flowed out behind her as did her wings. Her wings caught his attention; they were unusually long trailing behind her and blending with her gown. Their ends were tattered as though, in sorrow, she had drug them behind her for many years.

He watched almost in a trance as she seemed to float by, her silver eyes facing forward and her feet never making a sound. She passed so close, strands of her ebony hair almost brushed his face. She hummed softly now under her breath as she kneeled next to several of the infants and began tenderly brushing the dust from them.

"Come from the shadows Nephilim." her soft lilting voice broke the silence as she spoke without turning from her task. War stood, stepping from the shadows. Her silvery eyes locked with his glowing blue ones as she turned to face him. He held his still drawn sword in front of him warily. She gave him a serene but sad smile and held out both her hands, palms up. "I mean you no harm Nephilim. I am merely curious as to why you have ventured here with the war going on. This is a place of rest and slumber for those gone to eternal peace."

He straightened and lowered the sword, "Who are you angel? And why do you not fight with the armies of the White City?" She turned away then, gazing up at the many bodies of the dead. "I have my reasons Nephilim, as I am sure you have yours. I am the guardian of these tombs, the last watcher of these sad souls." He narrowed his eyes only slightly and growled out a reply. "Or could it be you don't wish to fight because you fear death?"

She turned back towards him, her eyes flashed with anger, "I fear nothing Horseman, especially Death. I don't fight because I have seen too much death, too much senseless destruction. Seen entire families slaughtered for speaking an ill word against another human being!" He scoffed openly at her, "What is more important than driving Hell's army back to the Black Depths. What better cause."

She sighed heavily, "I do not expect you to understand. There are very few beings that do." She gave once last loving caress to the infant she had been kneeling next to.

She turned away then and began fading back into the shadows. "One day War, you will grow tired of that which gave you your name. Then you will understand."

Before she faded away completely he yelled after her, "Who are you angel?" Her lilting voice floated back to him from the shadows. "Azrael wasn't always the Angel of Death, nor was your brother." And then she was gone, leaving War alone in the catacombs. He turned away, leaving the tombs quiet and undisturbed along with the strange angel with the sad eyes.


End file.
